I write book reviews for all types of books. Mainly, mystery/thriller, Contemporary and Historical fiction, Biography/Memoir and True Crime, and a little Romance, too!

Flashback Friday

Flashback Friday

Spices & Seasons

Spices & Seasons

Thursday, August 4, 2016

Why Do Dukes Fall in Love? by Megan Frampton Blog Tour + Giveaway

About WHY DO DUKES FALL IN LOVE?

In Megan Frampton’s
captivating new Dukes Behaving Badly
novel, we learn the answer to the question:

Why do dukes fall in love?

Michael, the Duke of Hadlow,
has the liberty of enjoying an indiscretion . . . or several. But
when it comes time for him to take a proper bride, he ultimately
realizes he wants only one woman: Edwina Cheltam. He’d hired her as
his secretary, only to quickly discover she was sensuous and
intelligent.

They embark on a passionate
affair, and when she breaks it off, he accepts her decision as the
logical one . . . but only at first. Then he decides to pursue her.

Michael is brilliant,
single-minded, and utterly indifferent to being the talk of the ton.
It’s even said his only true friend is his dog. Edwina had begged
him to marry someone appropriate–—someone aristocratic . . .
someone high-born . . . someone else. But the only thing more
persuasive than a duke intent on seduction is one who has fallen
irrevocably in love.

Why
Do Dukes Fall in Love?

EXCERPT:

Chapter
1

1844

The
Quality Employment Agency, London

“He
left you with nothing?”

Edwina
glanced to the side of the room, a tactic she knew full well wouldn’t
disguise the moisture in her eyes, especially not from Carolyn, her
oldest and dearest friend. They’d met when Edwina’s late husband
had wanted to find a respectable, but inexpensive, maidservant, and
Carolyn’s agency had found the perfect person. And Edwina had
finally found a friend she could actually talk to.

The
room was as familiar to her as her own lodgings—and definitely more
welcoming. A kettle was heating up water on the small stove, the tea
things—the chipped blue cup for Carolyn, the cup with the handle
that was always too hot for her—waiting until the water boiled.

Cozy,
comfortable, and everything else she was not.

“No.”
She spoke plainly, unable and unwilling to disguise the truth of it.

Eight
years of marriage to one of the most boring men of her acquaintance,
and he didn’t even have the decency to leave her financially
comfortable when he died.

“I
can help you, you know,” Carolyn said in a soft voice. She got up
as the kettle began to whistle and started preparing the tea.

Edwina’s
throat tightened. “I won’t take your money.” Fine words for a
pauper—they both knew that if the choice came between accepting
charity and letting her daughter starve, Edwina would take the money.
Gertrude sat on the floor, playing with her dolls. Was she already
getting thinner? Edwina’s heart hurt at the thought, and she had to
bite the inside of her cheek not to start fretting aloud. That would
do nothing but worry her daughter, who wasn’t old enough to
understand.

Edwina
wasn’t entirely certain she was old enough to understand, either.

“I
wasn’t offering to give you any money,” Carolyn replied in a dry
tone of voice, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke.

Edwina’s
gaze met Carolyn’s.

“Well,
what then?” she asked in an unsteady voice.

“Employment,”
Carolyn replied, returning to her task.

“Employment?”
Edwina echoed, an uneasy feeling settling somewhere in her gut. The
gut that was remarkably close to her stomach, which hadn’t eaten
today, and had only had some porridge and some hard cheese yesterday.

So
the uneasy feeling would have to ease.

“You
do know I run an employment agency.” Carolyn gestured to the room
they sat in. “Since you have used my services.”

“Yes,
back when I could afford them,” Edwina replied in a tone that was
both wry and pained.

She
took a deep breath, and looked around her. It was undeniably
pleasant, if modest. The cozy, comfortable room of the Quality
Employment Agency, filled with books, papers, mismatched chairs, and
an enormous battered desk, where Carolyn normally sat, welcomed her,
made her feel safe in a way her new lodgings did not.

“Yes,
but—” and then Edwina felt both foolish and snobby, since the
answer was obvious, and yet had not occurred to her because of who
she was. Who she had been.

“But
what?” Carolyn picked up the teacups, wincing as she felt the heat
from the offending handle. She brought them over to where Edwina was
seated, placing them on the desk and sitting back down in her usual
spot. “You need a job, Edwina. No matter who you are. Even
ladies—especially ladies, judging from my experience—need to have
enough money to eat and to live. Even if their husbands were so
disappointing as to leave them bereft of anything but their good
name.”

“And
even that was sullied, thanks to George’s entrusting of the
accounts to his brother as soon as it seemed the businesses were
getting profitable, and worthy of notice,” Edwina remarked in a
bitter tone. She kept her tone low, so her daughter couldn’t hear.
“I told him I could handle them, that I had gotten them to the
state they were in, not to mention I told him how untrustworthy his
brother was—and yet he said he’d never ‘let a female deal with
important things,’ ” she said in an imitation of her late
husband.

“More
fool he,” Carolyn remarked. “If he had allowed you to continue to
oversee the finances you wouldn’t be in this situation now, would
you?”

It
was a well-worn discussion, but one that still made Edwina angry.
George had been so blind to her attributes he hadn’t seen she was
skilled at maths, far better than anyone in his own family,
especially his debt-beleaguered younger brother. He had been fine
when she oversaw the accounts when they weren’t important—but
ironically, as soon as her skill had yielded results, he took them
away from her and handed them to a man. Simply because he was a man,
and his brother, and not a woman, and his wife.

And
now she and little Gertrude were being made to suffer for it.
George’s brother hadn’t done more than shrug when Edwina had told
him how George had left her. He already had a wife, he said, and he
couldn’t afford to take her in, although he had offered a place to
his niece.

But
Edwina couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from her
daughter; she was the only thing keeping Edwina from stepping in
front of an oxcart one day. That she and Gertrude might starve to
death was not something she wanted to contemplate—what reasonable
person would?—even though she had to.

Which
brought her back to why she was currently sitting with her closest
friend in said closest friend’s employment agency, realizing that
perhaps she had to consider employment herself.

“What
can I do?” she said at last, hating how pathetic and needy she
sounded. Better pathetic and
needy than dead, a voice said
inside her head.

Carolyn
chuckled, taking a sip of her tea. “What can’t you do? You can
balance accounts, drive hard bargains with tradesmen, oversee
skittish maids, sort out the temperamental discord among upper-class
servants, and keep an older husband relatively comfortable in
illness. Not to mention you are extremely well-read—there are
benefits to having a neglectful husband—and your parents ensured
you had all the education you’d need to be an adept wife, whether
you married a politician, a solicitor, or even a lord.”

“Or
a businessman with lofty pretensions,” Edwina added. “They
thought they had taken care of me. I wish they were still here.”
She shook her head. “I do not wish to be married again, if that is
the employment you are suggesting.” Once was enough, and she would
have said never would have been enough if it weren’t for Gertrude.
And it is not as though she had any other family to resort to; her
parents had both been only children, and she had no relatives that
she knew of.

“I
am not in a husband acquisition business, Edwina,” Carolyn replied
in a mocking tone. “If

I
were, don’t you think I could afford a better office?”

They
both glanced around at the tidy but shabby room. “Excellent point,”
Edwina replied with a grin, picking up the cup with the still-hot
handle and taking a welcome sip of tea. “So what do you have in
mind?”

Something I have talked about before is
that I can not (as in CAN NOT) write a book without knowing precisely
whom the hero looks like. Not just that; the person I have in mind
has to be a) relatively in his prime and b) tall and c) is usually an
actor, although I have made an exception for British supermodel David
Gandy (because duh).

I use the image in my head as an anchor
to figure out what the hero might do or say at any given time. I
don’t print pictures out or create a Pinterest board or any of that
actual visual stuff; as long as I have the guy in my head, I’m
good.

Generally, what ends up happening is
that the actor’s personality seeps out through my hero as well (or
maybe a role the actor played that I particularly enjoyed). So, for
example, the hero of Put Up Your Duke was modeled after Game of
Thrones’s Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, so a bit of Jaime got included,
particularly the effortless charm and incredible good looks.

Why Do Dukes Fall in Love?’s hero was
someone I like, but I sometimes feel uncomfortable liking. That’s
because some of the roles he’s played—and played well—have been
despicable, and also because in real life he seems as though he is
not the nicest person in the world.

This hero is modeled after German-Irish
actor Michael Fassbender, and in particular I kept his portrayal of
Mr. Rochester from Jane Eyre in mind while I wrote. I know some
people find Mr. Rochester—and likely Fassbender as
well—overbearing, autocratic, and sometimes sneering, and that
attitude was definitely part of my hero Michael (yeah, I named the
hero Michael. I have no imagination when it comes to names). I took
that attitude and wrote Michael as though he were on the spectrum,
keenly intelligent, but not very tolerant of social niceties.

Fassbender’s presence—that
commanding stalk of a walk (which sounds funny when you say it
aloud—maybe don’t try that), his low, rumbling voice, the way he
stares so intently at the person he’s talking to. All of that went
into my writing of Michael, and made him come alive in my head, and
hopefully on the page.

I am sometimes reluctant to share the
image of the hero in my head, since readers will bring their own
vision of the hero, and I wouldn’t want to tamper with that (the
author can only impose so much of her viewpoint on the book—after
it’s been printed, it’s up to readers to figure out what they
think about it, and who they see when they read). But it is such a
crucial part of my process I think it can be fun to know, too.

GUEST POST BY MEGAN FRAMPTON:

Do you see people when you read?

Something I have talked about before is
that I can not (as in CAN NOT) write a book without knowing precisely
whom the hero looks like. Not just that; the person I have in mind
has to be a) relatively in his prime and b) tall and c) is usually an
actor, although I have made an exception for British supermodel David
Gandy (because duh).

I use the image in my head as an anchor
to figure out what the hero might do or say at any given time. I
don’t print pictures out or create a Pinterest board or any of that
actual visual stuff; as long as I have the guy in my head, I’m
good.

Generally, what ends up happening is
that the actor’s personality seeps out through my hero as well (or
maybe a role the actor played that I particularly enjoyed). So, for
example, the hero of Put Up Your Duke was modeled after Game of
Thrones’s Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, so a bit of Jaime got included,
particularly the effortless charm and incredible good looks.

Why Do Dukes Fall in Love?’s hero was
someone I like, but I sometimes feel uncomfortable liking. That’s
because some of the roles he’s played—and played well—have been
despicable, and also because in real life he seems as though he is
not the nicest person in the world.

This hero is modeled after German-Irish
actor Michael Fassbender, and in particular I kept his portrayal of
Mr. Rochester from Jane Eyre in mind while I wrote. I know some
people find Mr. Rochester—and likely Fassbender as
well—overbearing, autocratic, and sometimes sneering, and that
attitude was definitely part of my hero Michael (yeah, I named the
hero Michael. I have no imagination when it comes to names). I took
that attitude and wrote Michael as though he were on the spectrum,
keenly intelligent, but not very tolerant of social niceties.

Fassbender’s presence—that
commanding stalk of a walk (which sounds funny when you say it
aloud—maybe don’t try that), his low, rumbling voice, the way he
stares so intently at the person he’s talking to. All of that went
into my writing of Michael, and made him come alive in my head, and
hopefully on the page.

I am sometimes reluctant to share the
image of the hero in my head, since readers will bring their own
vision of the hero, and I wouldn’t want to tamper with that (the
author can only impose so much of her viewpoint on the book—after
it’s been printed, it’s up to readers to figure out what they
think about it, and who they see when they read). But it is such a
crucial part of my process I think it can be fun to know, too.

Why Do Dukes Fall in Love? By Megan Frampton is a 2016 Avon publication. I was provided a copy of this book by the publisher and Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

This cute Victorian era romance centers around Eliza Cheltham, her young daughter, Gertrude, and Michael, the Duke of Hadlow. The lives of these three very unique individuals converge when the duke finds himself in need of a secretary and Eliza discovers her deceased husband has left her destitute, meaning she will need to find a job.

Michael’s disposition is like that of many aristocrats, in that he is arrogant and impatient, snobbish and boorish. He makes no apologies for these traits and refuses to pretend politeness, or play along with what society dictates, becoming impatient when people play games instead of speaking their minds.

Eliza immediately makes an assessment of the duke’s unconventional attitude toward polite society. She shrugs off his rudeness and forthright musings and proves herself invaluable to him, earning the great duke’s respect and stirring something deep within him he can’t quite put a name to.

But, as time passes the relationship moves well beyond the propriety of their professional contract. In fact, it’s downright scandalous. However, with the huge class differences between them, they can never take the relationship any further, forcing Eliza to make a painful decision about her future.

This is a very light romp, with cute banter and an adorable child to add an added dose of charm to the story.

I know I lament often enough about the overabundance of soft and fluffy historical romances, without any dire or difficult challenges for the characters to face, other than the usual difficulties, like dealing with fussy, spoiled dukes, who avoid marriage at all cost.

But, we do still need the mind candy, if you will, with stories that provide a diversion from our hectic, stress filled lives, or from depressing headlines. This book is the perfect medicine for those times, and just what the doctored ordered.

I actually found the duke’s outlook rather refreshing. Of course, one can be plainly spoken or forthright in a tactful way, which is what Michael needed to work on. But, I agreed with him about the tediousness of polite conversations, as I also prefer people just cut to the chase and get right to the point.

He also made a pivotal connection with Gertrude. I don't usually like children added into the mix, but Gertrude proves to be a refreshing addition and I loved the way Michael accepted her and she wound him around her finger. In fact, I knew by the way he responded to Gertrude, he was in already in deep, and was in serious trouble, he just didn't know it yet.

Eliza is a practical person, and I liked that she is a mature character, and not a virginal teenager, which made it easier for me to relate to her. She doesn’t complain, is smart, and isn’t always on the verge of tears, or filled with high octane angst. She does what is right for herself and her child, proving she believes in her own self-worth.

The characters are not extremely developed, nor are not shallow. The book is intended to be fun, light and airy, and it successfully entertained me for a few hours and lighted my mood, which is something we all could use right now.

This is a nice escapist read, cute and sassy, filled with charm and humor. These types of stories never go out of style or lose their popularity, because who doesn’t like to see love erase class boundaries and defy logic?

Megan Frampton writes historical romance under
her own name and romantic women’s fiction as Megan Caldwell. She
likes the color black, gin, dark-haired British men, and huge
earrings, not in that order. She lives in Brooklyn, New York, with
her husband and son. You can visit her website at
www.meganframpton.com. She tweets as @meganf, and is at
facebook.com/meganframptonbooks.

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About Me

I am married with two grown children, I have two dogs and three cats, I collect vintage paperbacks, I read, and write reviews, blog, promote across social media. I am a top Amazon and Goodreads reviewer.

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